The Dangerous Missions Arc
by Persephone-Sings
Summary: The five Gundam Pilots find themselves having to face their worst nightmares. Dentists, Optometrists, hair salons, The Gap, and even a nail salon. Will they survive?
1. Mission Dentist

Title: Mission: Dentist - Part one of the Dangerous Missions Arc

Author: Persephone-sings

Pairings: 1x2

Warnings: none

Summary: Heero faces his worst fear...dentistry

Mission: Dentist

Duo thumped up the porch stairs, making a mental note to reapply the stain that now seemed slightly faded and well-worn. A glance at his watch had him throwing aside wayward thoughts and reminded him to focus on the mission at hand.

"Heero! Where are you?" Duo kicked the door shut with his foot, juggling grocery bags and keys. "Don't you know what today is? I told you this morning!" He sighed inwardly and dropped his bags onto the kitchen counter. They were going to be late. He could feel it.

He continued on his way into the hall and up the stairs towards the bedrooms. "Heero, don't act like this. You're only prolonging the agony! It's just one tooth."

He went directly to the closet in their bedroom and threw open the doors. He blinked. And then again. There was Heero, huddled beneath the hanging suits. His eyes were wide and his expression frantic. He shook his head rapidly, "I'm not going."

Duo sighed and leaned against the doorframe, "Love, it's just a dentist. He's going to help you feel better. I promise!" He held back a feral grin when Heero tentatively stuck his head out of the closet to better judge Duo's expression. Duo held up both hands and whipped out his best smile. His face fell when Heero's eyes narrowed and he jerked his head back into the closet.

"Liar. Dentists are demons, sent only to torture! I refuse! You can't mak-" He choked on his last words when Duo's hands flew out, wrapped around his shirt, and yanked him out of the closet.

He struggled futilely against Duo's grip on his shirt as he was walked purposefully down the hall and descended the stairs.

"Duo! Let me go!" A rapid jerk.

"This is for your own good, Heero." An equally strong tug.

Heero ground to a halt at the bottom of the stairs by wrapping his legs around the banister. Duo was forced to stop and tapped his foot impatiently, "Heero, what are you doing?"

Heero turned liquid eyes towards his lover, "Have I told you today how much I love you? Because, if I haven't, then I've been remiss in my duties as your one true love!"

Duo forced himself to remain stoic and unmoved by the imploring expression pasted onto Heero's face. He was stunning, even when conniving and devious.

Duo rubbed his head ruefully, knowing his chances of getting "any" when they got home were just about zero, "Ah, yeah, like this morning when we woke up and you realized today was your appointment and in the shower when you almost had me convinced you didn't need to go." His eyes narrowed, "Until you tried to bite into a piece of toast and nearly swallowed your tongue! You never went to the dentist when you were younger and now you're feeling it. You just need one tooth pulled, love. It won't take that long. Please?" He pressed a soft kiss on Heero's pouting lips and then his cheek and the special place behind his ear that always turned him to putty.

Heero leaned into his touch, cursed himself for the weakness, and then detached himself from the banister. He stood, brushed imaginary dust off his pants, and tried to get back his self-respect. Catching Duo's eyes, he nodded briskly and headed for the door.

Duo hurried to catch up and grabbed his keys just as Heero opened the door. They walked to the car, got in, and were off.

In the car, Duo kept one eye on the road and one on the tightly clenched hands in the lap of his lover. He placed his right hand over the trembling pair and squeezed gently, sighing in relief as they opened and accepted his hand warmly into their midst.

He kept those two hands in his own as they waited for Heero's name to be called.

"I'll be right beside you the entire time, love." He always switched to endearments in Japanese as they reached Heero deeper than any English word could.

A dental hygienist stepped out from behind a pristine white door, "Mr. Heero Yuy?"

Duo stood and Heero followed suit, walking behind the woman as she led them through a twisting hallway that seemed to go on forever. Heero clenched his teeth when the woman nodded them into a small room. His eyes grew wide as he took in the sterile looking chair, the bright light above and the small tray table for instruments...for what purpose?!

He turned, instinct making him want to flee, as it had many times before in interrogation rooms. Only Duo's warm grip on his hand kept him from making it to the door. He struggled against the automatic response to take Duo over his shoulder and just run as Duo led him to the chair.

"Sit, Heero. The sooner it starts, the sooner it's over, right?"

Heero plopped down on the seat, not liking how it didn't sink under his weight like the comfy couch he had left at home. "I'm mad at you, Duo." He wasn't, not really. But he was angry at the situation that placed him here, angry at the fact that he was scared, and slightly despondent over discovering just how firmly he was wrapped around Duo's finger.

Duo winced, not liking being on Heero's bad side, but hating seeing him in any pain, "That's fine, so long as you can chew properly while you're taking out your anger on steak or something equally as manly."

Heero turned his head to face him, "Will you grill me one?"

Duo grinned, "The biggest one in the store!" Heero touched his cheek in apology and Duo turned his face into it to press a kiss against the callused palm.

The dentist entered then and cut into their conversation.

And everyone in the waiting room blanched when a loud shriek echoed down the hall and into the room.

Duo glanced over at Heero for the hundredth time while he patiently grilled the steak. He hadn't spoken a word since they left the office and stopped at the grocery store. Nor when they had come back to the house and started dinner. And not a word when Duo gave him a towel wrapped around ice for his throbbing jaw.

"Heero, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize he wouldn't numb it first! Are you okay? Won't you talk to me, please? Forgive me, love! I feel awful, horrible! Ah! Do you hate me?" He was frantic. Heero never went for the petty things other couples did in fights. No insults, no pointed stares, no silent treatment.

Heero eyed him balefully and mumbled, "It hurts too much to move my mouth."

Duo's brow creased, "Could you speak up? I can't hear you over the grill."

" . . . sure." Heero pushed his chair back from the patio table, set his icy towel on the top, and walked over to Duo. He took a deep breath and leaned very close to Duo's unsuspecting ear.

"OWWWWWWWWWW!!!"


	2. Mission Optometrist

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing because if I did, I wouldn't be a rapidly-going-broke college student!

This is part 2 of the Dangerous Missions Arc  
Pairing: 1x2  
Warnings: none

Author's note: I don't have anything against those who wear glasses. After all, I wear them myself! Enjoy!

Summary: Duo and Heero take a trip... a forced trip

Mission: Optometrist  
by Persephone**-**sings

A grim, set expression graced the features of one man as he struggled out the door. A frantic scurrying, a scraping and then a catching of fingers on the door jam was the only answer to his silent plea. He turned back with a sigh and braced his sneaker-clad feet against the cool tile of the stairwell leading down from their apartment.

"Duo, let go of the door." A shake of one braided head.

"Dammit, Duo! Stop being a baby!" Heero let out an exasperated breath, not bothering to admit that he would be acting the same way if he had to go where Duo was going.

His lover turned to him with soft violet eyes that belied the strong death grip on the door. "I thought you loved me, Heero." A sad, trembling sigh.

Heero's jaw dropped, "I can't believe you! You did the same thing to me when you made me go to the dentist last month. Remember? Where was the sympathy there, huh? The love?"

Caught up in the memory, Duo loosened his hold on the door and chuckled, "Man, love, you should've seen yourself! It was absolutely hilarious! I've never seen you more nervous! It was almost bordering on ridiculous!" He straightened from his clinging crouch and stopped for a minute, mission forgotten, to admire his lover. Just a few inches taller than Duo himself, Heero made a striking picture of solid, whipcord strength, brilliant blue eyes, and messy brown hair that remained the same, year after year, no matter how hard Heero tried to change it. But Duo was secretly glad, even though he helped Heero every time he went on a binge of hair products and brushes, because he loved to prove to Heero just how attractive his mop of uncooperative hair really was.

Duo, already planning their next session of "loving Heero's hair", didn't notice when Heero's eyes narrowed dangerously, or when he began to inch closer to his prone companion. Or when his arm snaked out and wrapped around Duo's wrist.  
With a not-so-gentle tug, Duo was whirled away from the door and halfway down the stairs before he even realized. His cry of dismay echoed down the hall and his feet scrambled for purchase on the slippery tile.

"Heero! You tricked me! How can you live with yourself?" Duo flopped his free hand dramatically against his forehead, "What happened to honesty, trust, and support in a relationship?"

Heero turned his head to glare half-heartedly at Duo, "That part ended when you made me go to that psycho with a scalpel. Now all we have is sex." He smiled crookedly at Duo who stuck out his tongue in answer.

"Yeah, well, if you make me go there, we won't even have that." Heero stopped abruptly on the third floor landing and looked at Duo, pasting a hurt expression on his face. Duo stumbled to a halt and brushed loose strands of hair out of his face, "What'd I say?"

Heero cupped Duo's face tenderly in his hands, "I just want you to know that I love you and I wouldn't force you to go to this if I didn't think you needed it." He pressed a brief kiss to Duo's lips and then grasped his wrist again. With a gentle pull, they started back down the stairs, Heero with determined strides, Duo with a resigned dragging of feet.

At the door to the street, Duo suddenly latched onto the door, pulling Heero to a halt. He turned around, still holding onto Duo's wrist and his shoulders slumped, "Duo, I hate doing this, don't make it any harder-" Duo pulled him against his chest and pulled his head down for a deep kiss. Tongues tangled and breath mingled until Duo pulled away.

"I love you, too, Heero. Just wanted you to know," He made a show of releasing the door, "Lead the way, lover." Heero smiled, a slow spreading across his face that even seven years after their first kiss made Duo's breath hitch in his throat, and covered his mouth with his, a kiss of thanks and love. A glance at his watch had Heero swearing and breaking into a run towards the car. Duo jogged behind him, still mentally trying to postpone the inevitable.

"If we don't hurry, Duo, we're gonna be late! Run faster, you dummy!" 

"Oi, Heero! Let go of the braid!" Duo ran faster. 

Once in the car, Heero sped out of the parking lot and raced towards the building duplex downtown that housed the offices of George and George, Optometrists.

Forty-five minutes later, Heero sat quietly beside Duo as he watched his lover glare at Dr. George, the younger one.

"I don't need glasses." 

A sigh, "Yes, Mr. Maxwell, you do."  
Duo shook his head so hard his braid hit Heero in the arm, "Where did you go to school, Mr. George, huh? I didn't see a degree on the wall! Do you know who I am! I'm a former Gundam Pilot, current member of the elite Preventers! I do not, I repeat! DO NOT need glasses. Glasses are for dorks. I am not a dork."

Heero cleared his throat to catch his lover's attention, "Wu Fei wears glasses. Sally says she finds them, ah... 'hot.'"

Duo looked at him, "Heero, Fei is the epitome of dorkness! Women only find men with glasses attractive because it makes them look smart. However," He grinned at Heero, "you already know I'm smart."

"Sometimes, I wonder." Heero managed to say with a straight face. Duo glared at him.

The Optometrist looked back and forth between the two men and hid a smile, "Mr. Maxwell, if you don't have a pair of frames on when you walk out the door, I'm afraid I have to report to Miss Une that you are not fit for duty. End of story. So I suggest you walk over to that wall and start trying on frames. Now."

Duo's mouth opened and closed repeatedly before he stood and walked over to the wall. He blindly picked a pair and shoved them on his nose.

His shoulders drooped and his face fell. He saw Heero walk up behind him in the mirror and leaned against the offered chest. Heero's arms wound around him, "I look awful. You aren't ever going to want to touch me again." Heero eased the pair of hated glasses off his nose and quietly studied the wall. He didn't release Duo but walked him back and forth across the floor, drawing a reluctant laugh from his antics.

He decided upon a simple pair of wire-frame, thin oval glasses. They were black, narrow enough for Duo's elfin features but bold enough for his personality. He placed them on Duo's nose and walked him back to the mirror

Heero smiled softly and leaned the few centimeters down to Duo's ear. "I disagree with your previous statement. I think you look incredible. I can't wait to get you home so I can take you to bed. With your glasses on." He nipped at Duo's ear and chuckled warmly when Duo raced to the counter to have his glasses fitted.

Duo waited impatiently while Dr. George and Heero conversed and signed the proffered check blindly. He held out his hand to Heero and practically flew out the door.

They entered the apartment in a flurry of movements. Clothes flew and shoes thumped against bedroom walls followed by soft rustles of sheets and breathy voices.

A gasp, "Heero! You broke my glasses! Was that part of your plan, too?"  
"Geez, Duo! Didn't you listen to the doctor at the office? They're the new flexi-frames! Unbreakable! See, you can bend them, twist them, and tug on them constantly!"

"Oooh... Heero, that's so cool! Do it some more?"

"Mission Accepted." 

And after...

"Oi, Heero?"

"Hai?" was the sleepy reply.

"Maybe having glasses isn't so bad after all."


	3. Mission Hair Salon

Title: Mission: Haircut part 3 of 5 of the Dangerous Missions Arc

Author: Persephone-sings

Pairings: 3x4

Warnings: None

Summary: Trowa faces his worst fear...a haircut

Mission: Haircut

"Shit! Quatre, you traitor!" Trowa glared at his seemingly innocent lover who held up his hands in defense.

"Tro, don't be silly! You mentioned the other day that you should get a hair appointment to Duo so I just thought I'd help you. I don't understand why you're so upset..." Quatre blinked in surprise when Trowa jumped up from his seat at the dining room table where they were eating lunch and began to pace.

Trowa ran his hands through his decidedly too-long hair in frustration, "In front of Duo, yes! He hates hearing about stuff like that!" He smiled for a second, lost in memory, "His face got all red and mottled and he started to breath faster and faster and he gripped his hair with both hands like he was a drowning man struggling to keep his hold-" Quatre cleared his throat pointedly and narrowed his eyes at his husband.

Quatre rested his chin on one hand and fiddled with his fork with the other, "Well, why would you say it then?" The nonchalant position belied his own amusement at the situation.

Trowa stopped in his tracks and turned to look disbelievingly at his lover, "You mean, you don't remember? Just last week he glued Rashid to the seat of his brand new car and then the week before used our...ah...well, you know...our 'stuff' to tie Abdul to the boat at our weekend barbecue." Trowa crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin defiantly, "It was payback."

Quatre lifted his head and smiled a smile that could only be considered feral, "Remember when you forgot all about Relena's yearly dinner with the world's 'not really important but seriously rich people' in Duo's words?" Trowa nodded reluctantly, "Ah, good, then you remember that you made plans with the guys and I had to go by myself? To Relena's estate. To Relena's party! Where all she talked about was superficial things like fashion and who was dating what famous person, and why grass turns different shades of green!?!?!"

Trowa plopped down into his chair and heaved a deep sigh, which stirred his overly-long bangs and caused them to tickle his lips annoyingly. "Did I not make up for that the next night?"

Quatre's eyes narrowed and he shook his head slowly, "Not hardly. Consider this payback, my love."

Trowa eyed Quatre appraisingly and then eyed the distance to the door. Before Quatre could even blink, Trowa was up and running towards the door.

Quatre jumped up from his seat, knocking over his chair and was hot on Trowa's heels, "Tro! Don't be ridiculous! It's a haircut, it won't kill you!"

Trowa took a precious second to look over his shoulder. His eyes widened comically when he saw how much closer Quatre was than he thought.

He picked up the pace and ran through the open doors onto the veranda, "Stay away from me, you traitor! I told you my secret fear when I was drunk that night and you _used_ it!" He threw over his shoulder, "That's low, Quatre, so _low_!"

Over the garden fence he jumped, under the orchard trees he ran and still Quatre followed. It wasn't until he got to the small lake that his feet twisted on the sand and he went flying backwards. He landed on his back with a loud curse and watched as Quatre caught his breath a few feet away, bent over with his hands clasping his knees, chest heaving.

He lifted his head and shook back golden strands that fell in his eyes, "Damn, Tro, you can still run faster than anyone I've ever met."

His compliment was met with stony silence.

He tried a cajoling smile but it withered under the death glare being sent his way.

Finally, he sighed, and held out a hand, "Come on, Trowa. Stop acting like a baby and be the man I know you are. Be brave, love." He barely managed to withhold a smirk as the obstinance faded from Trowa's eyes and he thought he had won when he saw that it was replaced by...fear?

He dropped to his knees beside Trowa in alarm and wrapped his arms around him, "Trowa, I never thought you were serious! Oh, Allah, if I had known just how frightened you really were I never would have made the appointment! Honest! But why are you so scared of hair stylists?"

Trowa pulled away with a shudder and leaned back against Quatre's welcoming chest. "It all started before the war..." and he began a tale of one little boy with a mop of auburn hair in his face that was forced to get it cut so it wouldn't hinder his sight... "And do you know what they gave me, Quatre?"

Entranced, Quatre could only manage a shake of his head. Trowa whirled to face him and slicked his hair back from his face, "A BUZZ CUT! I was shaved! It was horrible! The barber was a sadistic bastard who only wanted my hair for a wig for one of the commanding officers!" He grabbed Quatre by his shoulders and shook him, caught up in his fear, "I can't take it again! I need hair, Quatre! I like to shampoo and condition, to brush and detangle! Hell, I even like the fact that I need one of those really cool rollers with the sticky paper on it so it takes hair off my clothes! I like having you run your fingers through my hair at night and to ruffle it in the morning to say hello!" He stood and pointed a finger imperiously at his lover, "I'm not going! I refuse! And you can't make me!"

Quatre stood warily and glanced at his watch. It was a good thing he told the barber they'd be late. He could read Trowa like a book and if he didn't want to do something...well...you just had to make him do it anyway.

Quatre turned and walked back the way they came. He hid a smile when he practically heard Trowa's jaw hit the sand, "All right, Tro. You win, I was wrong and you are right. So I'll just call the barber and tell him you don't trust him. He'll be ruined, fired, and eventually his family will be thrown out on the streets because he won't be able to pay his rent and then they'll starv-"

"All right!" Trowa ran up to match Quatre's pace as they headed for the house. "You win, dammit. I won't have anyone out on the streets because of my fear."

Quatre turned his head and gave him a brilliant smile, "I knew you'd say that! That's part of why I love you, you know."

"Yeah, yeah. I hope you still love me when my hair looks stupid." Quatre laughed as Trowa continued to grumble until they reached the patio doors.

Quatre opened the door, "Okay, here's the thing. I told the barber to come here so you would be more comfortable in your own surroundings. So, he's in our bathroom. Let's go, love."

Trowa took a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic pulse pounding in his ears. The things he did for that man...

Trowa stepped through the bathroom doorway and turned back to Quatre.

Quatre glanced at his watch and noted the time.

One...

"You owe me so big, buddy." Quatre merely smiled. "Stuff like...I get to be top for the whole week kinda stuff. Deal?" A sedate nod.

Two...

"Okay, here I go." Trowa stepped through the doorway and stopped dead in his tracks. His jaw hit the floor and he nearly fell over in surprise.

Three...

"DUO!?! Why the hell are you holding _shears!!_"

Quatre chuckled from his seat on the bed.

"Payback is so sweet."


	4. Mission The Gap

Title: Mission: The Gap - part four of five of the Dangerous Missions Arc

Author: Persephone-sings

Pairings: 3x4

Warnings: None

Summary: Duo takes Quatre to get a new outfit as a thank-you for helping him with Trowa...

Mission: The Gap

Duo set his teeth and shoved his sleeves up to his elbows. He tapped his foot continuously to the peppy music playing on the store stereo system while he waited for Quatre to come out of the dressing room.

"Quatre? What's taking so long?" Duo was a patient man, really, he was. But waiting fifteen minutes for one outfit was killing him! Maybe trying to diversify Quatre's stuffy wardrobe wasn't the best plan he had ever come up with. Granted, _The Gap_ tended to be for the more adventurous group but desperate times called for desperate measures. And Duo was a desperate man. Hell, Quatre was desperate right now. Trowa still hadn't spoken one civil word to him since his little...ah...trim. Duo chuckled lowly. It had been beautiful. The once long-haired, solid-banged Trowa was no more! Replacing the old Trowa was the new and improved stylish Trowa! It was Duo's first piece of "art". Trowa no longer used gel to hold his hair down but to give it lift; body. Close-cut but not buzzed (for he had heard that story), it was perfect for a young man, upbeat and uptown. It worked for Quatre Raberba Winner's young newlywed husband. Speaking of which... "Quatre! Come on! It's just one outfit! Just lemme see!"

Quatre stuck his head over the top of the dressing room door and fire seemed to shoot from his eyes, "I hate you."

Duo plastered on his, "who, me?" innocent look and prayed for the best, "Aw, c'mon, Q! It was a great haircut. He secretly likes it, you know. Give it a couple more days and it'll be fine." He flashed a brilliantly cheesy smile and crossed his fingers behind his back. If only he could get Trowa to give Quatre some, ah, extracurricular activities, then his life would be back to normal and his best friends talking to him. Well, at least, stuff he wanted to hear.

Quatre narrowed his eyes, "This is all your fault. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have to wear something like this!" He threw open the door and stomped out. He planted his hands on his waist and glared for all he was worth, "Look at me! I'm a man-whore!"

Duo cocked his head and looked Quatre over carefully. Maybe the cropped, see-through shirt with the low-cut, skin-tight leather pants were a little much. Maybe if you couldn't see his nipples or the outline of his you-know-what, or his firm, developed stomach. Or the crack of his ass. Come to think of it, maybe if it didn't cling to every inch of skin that it marginally covered it would be okay...nah! Quatre looked great.

He nodded an affirmative, "I like it."

Quatre's shoulders slumped in resignation, "I can't believe you. How am I supposed to go out in public like this? How is looking like I just walked off the street supposed to make Trowa forgive me?"

Duo sighed sadly. Quatre really didn't know the art of give and take in a relationship. Good thing he was there to teach him. He walked over to Quatre and planted a brotherly hand on his shoulder, "Listen, Q, a relationship is like...ah...well..." He shook his head impatiently. He had no idea. "Trowa was humiliated and now it's your turn, right? So you go from here to the house wearing that, Mr. I'm-so-conservative-I-have-a-stick-up-my-ass-under-my-tailor-made-linen-pants and Trowa will be sufficiently appeased that your relationship will go back to normal."

Quatre raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Uh huh, like Trowa works like that. He's not that easily swayed, you know."

Duo laughed. "Quatre, man, look at your ass in those pants! It's in the bag."

Quatre walked out of the store in his new outfit, cheeks ablaze and fully aware of every smirk, remark, and stare. He shut his eyes in relief when he made it to the limo outside and managed to block out the stunned expression of his chauffeur.

He leaned his head wearily against the expensive seat and sighed. This had better work or Duo was dead. He tugged at his uncomfortably tight pants and winced as they only seemed to ride higher. So much for payback! He was the one that had been shafted in the first place! And now, here he was, having to grovel to get back into his husband's good graces. Life sucked.

He made it back to the house amidst whistles and leers and had to physically restrain himself by placing his hands in his pockets from taking them all out. That was a feat in itself and it took nearly as much time finding his house key as it did to walk up the driveway.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Quatre entered the house and walked into the kitchen. Trowa usually baked when he was upset and sure enough, cakes, pies, and breads littered the countertops. He winced when a particularly large thump echoed around the room. Feeling empathy for the soon-to-be loaf of bread, he knocked on the doorframe.

"Tro-love? Can I come in?" He tentatively stuck his head further into the kitchen and was rewarded by a gooey lump of dough flung at his head. Letting out a surprised cry, he managed to duck and was only showered with flour when it hit the wall above his head. "Ah, is that a no?"

Trowa turned to him, both eyes visibly blazing under the admittedly shorter hairstyle. "Bastard. If you don't want the dough up your..." His voice trailed off as he took in Quatre's outfit, "...very accessible ass! What the hell are you wearing?"

Quatre's cheeks flamed and he ducked his head in embarrassment, "An outfit from _The Gap!_ It was Duo's idea to embarrass me to make up for your wonderful new hairstyle so we decided on something that I would never really do but I did it for you because I love you and I'm sorry!" He smiled tentatively when Trowa stepped closer to him.

Trowa tapped his finger against the counter, "Ah, I see. So you thought you could win back my affection by humiliating yourself. Am I right?"

Quatre lowered his eyes. Said out-loud like that, it really was a bad idea....damn Duo! "Well, um, I guess so?"

Trowa smirked, "Well, you want my verdict?" A nervous nod "You have a hell of a long way to go before you get any, Mr. Winner."

Startled eyes lifted to meet his husband's gaze, "Trowa! What can I do? I've already apologized and humiliated myself and done everything I could think of for you! I'm lost here, Tro! Tell me what I need to do! I'll do anything!"

"Anything?"

"Yes!"

"You know that dinner we have to go to tomorrow night?"

"Yeah, it's for the new Prime Minister's acceptance party. All the 'important' people in the country will be there. Why?"

A feral grin, "Guess what you'll be wearing..."


	5. Mission Nail Salon

Title: Mission: Nail Salon- part five of five of the Dangerous Missions Arc

Author: Persephone-sings

Pairings: 1x2, 3x4

Warnings: none

Summary: The first four pilots decide it's Wu Fei's turn to face his fear

Mission: Nail Salon

"No. Absolutely not." Wu Fei's emphatic shake of the head caused cajoling smiles to disappear and be replaced by set determination.

Quatre leaned across the table in the restaurant, "It's only fair, Wu Fei. We've all had to face our fears. Now, it's your turn." He sat back and grabbed his water glass, taking a sip.

Heero sipped at his soup, trying to ignore the small wound that still throbbed in his mouth. He refrained from saying anything in order to keep his dignity. Mumbling and slurred words would only make the situation worse. Wu Fei would get even more nervous. But, sheesh, who'd have thought the brave warrior would be afraid of getting his nails done.

Duo energetically raised his knife and pointed it at Wu Fei from across the table, "As I recall, Mister, this was all your idea! Who came to Heero and told him I was squinting during mission briefing? Aha! YOU!" He adjusted his glasses and stared pointedly over them at the cowering soldier.

Trowa nodded in agreement, "And who came to Quatre and mentioned that I kept getting my hair in my mouth?" He reached up and pointed at his hair, "You."

Heero merely notched his chin and glared. Wu Fei blanched and Heero nodded. Good, point taken.

Quatre took a moment to run a hand appreciatively down his tailored pants that tucked in his nice, solid shirt. He didn't feel the need to remind Wu Fei about his part in the clothes shopping experiment. And the dinner that followed. His cheeks burned in remembrance. Tabloids, letters, pictures, he'd seen them all. Then his expression turned smug. Trowa had seen it all, too. After the dinner.

Wu Fei narrowed his eyes at his friends, "I cannot believe you people! You come to me for help and when I give it, you go and turn on me!"

Duo merely smiled, "Your appointment's tomorrow morning at ten. Be there or be square, Wu-man!"

"Bastard! I refuse." Wu Fei sat back with a huff and crossed his arms. He'd used his scary voice so he was confident he wouldn't be forced.

Quatre nodded sympathetically and Wu Fei knew he'd won, "I'm sorry you feel that way, Wu Fei. I completely understand," Wu Fei refrained from throwing a fist up in victory, but just barely. "Which is why we'll be coming with you." Wu Fei smirked. Like they could make him go! Ha! He'd beat them all back!

Trowa wrapped an arm around Quatre's waist as they stood to go, "Ah, yes. Did we mention Rashid and Abdul will be coming? They need a touch up from their last session so we just asked them to join us. You know, car-pooling? Saves the environment and all. See you tomorrow morning!"

Wu Fei's jaw dropped and he stared after them, unable to comprehend that he had just lost the most important battle of his life. His eyes screwed tight and he dimly heard Duo and Heero leaving.

Damn. He was going to become a woman. Hell had just frozen over. He was so screwed.

The next morning came far too quickly for Wu Fei and from his position crouched in the tree in his backyard, the light was too bright, the sun too warm, and the air to heavy with humidity...or was it fear? He scoffed under his breath. Yeah, right. Like those four could scare him. Ha!

A rustle above him made him look up. An acorn falling from the branches above hit him directly on the forehead, "Dammit! Damn squirrels! Get out of my tree, you scum!"

A body swung down from a branch to hang upside down directly in front of him. A braid landed on his own branch with a thump and his eyes widened.

"Now, Wu, I've been called many animals, but never a squirrel. Well, actually, does a rat count? 'Cause I've heard tons of people compare squirrels to rats..." A flash of white teeth and a pair of violet eyes had him swearing and jumping down to the ground below.

He hit the ground running...only to run into a very large, very solid chest. His frantic gaze traveled upward to pass over a large, corded neck, a strong face, to end at a very odd hairstyle. Shit. It was Rashid.

He sent his eyes heavenward even as he made his move. A swift kick to the shin and a quick move to the left had him bypassing the larger man and heading for his car. He whipped his keys out of his pocket and bypassed the three pilots watching the skeptical. He never even noticed Heero holding something secreted behind his back.

With a cry of success, he locked the car doors and slid the key into the ignition. He turned the key as he grabbed for his seatbelt (always buckle up!) and waited for the usual revving of his engine...and waited...and then waited some more.

He slammed his hands against his steering wheel and rested his forehead on it. Taking a deep breath, he eased out of the car and turned to face the three innocent-looking men.

"Who broke my car?" Quatre cleared his throat nervously and Trowa took a cautious step back. Everyone knew Wu Fei loved his car. Really loved his car.

Heero, jaw still sore, merely held up what looked to be his transmission. Wu Fei stepped closer to take a better look. Fuck! It was his transmission.

With a growl, he launched himself at Heero. Only to be caught by the collar and dangled from the air. He snarled and whipped a leg back at his "attacker". It brushed Rashid's arm harmlessly and he was thrown into the backseat of a van.

Strapped down by three seatbelts and two of Duo's favorite belts, Wu Fei was secured and they were off.

The next day at work had Wu Fei wearing gloves in the morning and creeping silently into his office. With a sigh of relief, he locked the door and eased into his chair. A glance around the room had him freezing.

Sally, Noin, and Une were perched on his partner's desk and all smiling expectantly at him. He flushed and shoved his hands hurriedly under the desk and into his lap.

Sally hopped down from her perch and walked over to his desk. She plopped down in front of him and held out her hand.

He shook his head no.

"Oh, come on, Wu Fei! I've been trying to make it to that salon and get my nails done but I just haven't had the time! Won't you please show me so I can see if I want to go spend my hard-earned cash there?" She fluttered her eyelashes and leaned towards him.

He heaved a sigh. She was good. She was so good. He raised one hand and she slid the glove off. He waited for her response and was not disappointed.

"Oh my gosh! Wu Fei! These are marvelous! What color is this? Oh, it's fabulous! Noin, Une! You have to see this. What craftsmanship! You are so lucky!"

Noin shared her sentiments profusely and Une merely smiled.

"So, Preventer Earth, what color is this?" Une's eyes twinkled but she managed to not laugh.

Wu Fei took a moment to glance down at his nails. They were right. It was good work.

He cleared his throat.

"Chianti Red."

The color of his car. Quatre had color coordinated him with his beloved car. He couldn't be too angry, now could he?

Owari!


End file.
